


Strapped

by stellarmeadow



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Kinks, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Thigh Holsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 15:33:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's determined Danny's going to be prepared next time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strapped

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, this is all @jazzsquare's fault. I really have nothing else to say other than that. All her fault.

Steve has been silent the whole drive home. And not the good kind of silent, where he's decided not to antagonize Danny for daily amusement, but the bad kind. The kind that says Steve's storing up a lot of things he has to say and that they're going to explode out of him the moment the door is closed on the house.

But they don't. Steve locks the door, not even bothering with the light, going straight for the stairs and apparently expecting Danny to follow him. 

Which, of course, Danny does. Because he's learned the hard way that the longer Steve stews about whatever's bothering him, the worse the explosion's going to be. And, if he's honest with himself, Danny hates making things worse for Steve, because the guy's life hasn't exactly been a picnic. 

Steve turns on the lamp by the bed and turns on his heel, probably some kind of perfect, precise military maneuver by the way he executes it so flawlessly. "You," he says, and oh, hey, look, there's the explosion just about to go off, judging by the tension vibrating out of Steve's voice as well as his body, "will start wearing a drop holster from now on."

"I hate those things," Danny says, going for less whining and more logic. "They flop around on my leg and I'm always worried the gun's going to fall out."

"Neither of those things happen if it's properly fitted," Steve says, as he turns and goes to the closet and pulls out a box. He tosses it on the bed and opens it. Inside is a brand new drop holster, still in plastic wrapping.

Danny doesn't ask how long Steve's had that, or if it was just a back up of his, or always meant for Danny and Steve just hadn't worked up the courage to give it to him. "I don't see why I should--"

Steve's across the room in two steps, a feat even for him. He's got Danny trapped against the wall but not quite touching. Not that it matters--Danny can feel the waves heat and...emotion, unclear yet just what emotion or emotions are there, boiling under the surface, just rolling off him. "Baxter nearly killed you today."

"But you--"

"Yes. I was there. I stopped him." Steve swallowed, and Danny could hear how dry his throat was in the sound. "And what if I hadn't been?"

"I would've--"

"You would've been dead." 

He hates that look. It's the look Steve gets sometimes when he talks about losing his Dad, or the one he wore the day he talked about his mom's death. Danny never wants to put that look on Steve's face. "But I'm not."

"Today," Steve counters. "Because I was there. I'm not always going to be there, Danny. We get disarmed. Guns jam--look what happened to yours today. You have to go into tactical situations with more than one weapon."

Steve's wearing a different look now, and Danny knows that look. That is the 'there will be no argument about this' look--not the one that can be persuaded, Danny's worked his way around that one before. This one...there's no working around it. 

"Okay," Danny says, his hands making their way onto Steve's waist, settling there gently. "Okay. I'll wear it if we're going into a bad situation."

He almost expects Steve to push for an 'always' amendment to that, but Steve just nods. He takes in a shaky breath and lets it out. His eyes close as he leans his head forward to rest his forehead against Danny's for a moment. "You scared the shit out of me," Steve whispers. 

Danny slides his arms around to pull Steve closer until they're pressed against each other, the wall holding both of them up, Steve's face burrowing into Danny's shoulder. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I almost didn't get there in time."

"But you did," Danny says, moving his hands up and down Steve's back. "And next time I'll have a back up gun."

Steve sniffs, and Danny feels him nod once before pulling out of the embrace. "Come here," Steve says, taking Danny's hand and leading him over to the bed. Steve lets go of Danny and pulls the holster with all its many straps out of the plastic before tossing the box and plastic back towards the closet. 

Frowning, Steve kneels down beside Danny, hooking the top of the holster into Danny's belt. Danny feels a little silly standing there, like he did every time he'd had to go in for a fitting for clothes, but Steve's not making any of the bad faces anymore, so Danny will deal.

When Steve finally has the top of the holster fit to his satisfaction, he starts working on the straps that go around Danny's leg. This part, at least, is part heaven, part torture, as Steve's hands are constantly bumping against Danny's dick, which is good, but Steve's not doing anything else with Danny's dick, which is not good.

After the third try, Steve sits back on his knees and shakes his head. "It's no good," he says, putting the holster aside.

"Not fitting?" Danny asks.

"No, it's not that. I can't get the right fit with all that fabric." 

Before Danny can process the insinuation, Steve's hands are on Danny's fly. "Hang on a minute," Danny says as Steve starts pulling Danny's pants down. "I'm not going to be wearing that thing naked."

"No, but if you want me to get this strap tight enough that it's not going to flop around, as you complained it would, you're going to have to be wearing something a little tighter around the leg. And as you don't have anything like that here, this is the best we can do."

It's said with the utmost innocence, and Danny would almost buy it, if it weren't for the fact that he knew, as well as Steve did, that a pair of Danny's jeans were downstairs in Steve's dryer, still waiting to be removed after Danny had tossed them in that morning. He could mention that, go get them, and put them on.

Or he could go with that look that's starting to peek out from behind the seriousness on Steve's face, and the way his fingers are caressing Danny's naked thigh, and see where that leads.

"Fine," Danny says, doing his best to sound annoyed and failing, "but if there is any chafing, you are on lotion duty for a week."

Steve quirks an eyebrow up. "That's supposed to deter me?"

"And listening to me bitch about it incessantly for the whole week."

His face falls. "Okay, okay, I'll be gentle."

His hand sliding up Danny's thigh is certainly gentle, his eyes tracing the movement as if it's delicate surgery requiring the utmost concentration. Steve pushes Danny's pants the rest of the way down, helping him step out of them and his shoes and socks. He slides Danny's underwear down a little more slowly, fingers dragging along, catching on the hair on Danny's legs and giving him goose bumps all over.

Danny's shirt is still on, but Steve didn't seem to care. He reaches for the holster, judging the spot on Danny's hips where it rested when hooked to his belt. "Hold this," Steve says, his voice already low and rough, making Danny's dick twitch in response. 

Putting a hand on the holster to keep it in place, Danny resists the urge to grab Steve's head with his other hand and drag it over to his dick, grabbing hold of the bed's foot rail instead. He needs it a second later, as Steve brings the bottom strap around Danny's leg, fastening the clasp before he pulls on the strap to tighten it.

It's just this side of too tight when he stops tightening, and Danny's dick is at half mast, like it’s trying to reach out for Steve. But Steve's ignoring it for a moment, intent on tracing his finger around the edge of the strap, as if looking for any give at all.

Danny could tell him there was no give--it was tight as a glove. He opens his mouth to say so, then stops as Steve brings the upper strap around and locks it in place.

The strap grazes Danny's balls on the right, and his dick decides it's quite happy with the new development. Steve's hand brushes against Danny's dick a few times as he's tightening the strap, and Danny's starting to understand the appeal of quite a few things he'd never seen as appealing in the past. 

He bites his lip as Steve looks up at him, his eyes dark, with only a hint of blue around the rims. Steve licks his lips, and Danny's hips move forward of their own accord. 

It's all the invitation Steve needs, as he takes Danny's dick in his mouth. It's different, somehow, with the holster strapped onto one leg, Steve's hand pressed against it on the back of Danny's high, and the strap grazing Danny's ball with every thrust into Steve's mouth. 

He could get used to the feeling.

He's not going to last long, not like this. His hands slide into Steve's hair, tilting his head just a little to get a better angle, to see Steve's face as Danny thrusts his dick in and out of Steve's mouth. It's always good when they're like this, Steve on his knees, but this one's even better. Hotter, with the recent near death experience and the feel of that holster Steve had fitted on him, reminding him Steve would do everything in his power to take care of Danny in every way possible.

One of Danny's hands moves to Steve's cheek, feeling the way it's hollowed out around Danny's dick, and that's enough right there to send him over the edge down Steve's throat, shouting Steve's name and a lot of other things he doesn't even remember a second later. 

Steve's holding Danny up when he realizes he can breathe again. He opens his eyes to see Steve looking up at him. He knows that look, too, and it's one he doesn't have a verbal answer for yet, but he's got his own to give back, and whatever Danny lets show on his face is good enough for Steve.

He climbs to his feet and undoes Danny's shirt, tossing it aside before dealing with his own clothes. Danny could help, but he's enjoying the post-orgasmic haze and the view as Steve slowly reveals tanned skin and tattoos that Danny has long since stopped pretending don't make his mouth water. 

When Steve is naked, he pulls Danny in for a kiss, that intoxicating mix of tastes in his mouth that makes Danny feel a lot of things he can't put into words. Steve breaks the kiss, though, to get Danny on his knees on the bed, moving in behind him with supplies Danny hadn't even noticed Steve getting out of the bedside table.

The preparation is quick, thank God, because Danny's aching to feel Steve inside him now. He loves the sensation of being filled, of Steve being part of him, if only for a few moments. Even when he's already come, it still feels good in ways he doesn't even understand, doesn't try to understand. Why question it when it feels so right?

And it feels even better when Steve reaches down for the thigh holster, pressing his hand against it on the front of Danny's thigh and using that leverage to thrust harder into Danny's body. Danny's head falls back onto Steve's shoulder, his eyes closed as Steve's mouth latches onto Danny's neck. He could almost get it up again just from this, feels his body trying, but he's a few years too old.

Guess they'll just have to do this again later. What a shame.

Steve's other hand moves from Danny's stomach up his chest to grip Danny's shoulder, pulling him tight, as Steve makes small, sharp thrusts and this high keening noise in the back of his throat that Danny knows is it, the last sound before Steve pushes hard into him once more and comes. 

Steve goes boneless, falling onto his side and taking Danny with him. The holster presses into Danny's leg, and he knows it's pressing into Steve's arm, too, but it's still a moment before Steve moves his arm out of the way. 

He's mouthing at the back of Danny's neck lazily, seemingly in no hurry to get up, but the holster's getting a bit uncomfortable now that the haze of lust is gone. Well, mostly gone. It's starting to clear, at least--it's never completely gone with Steve's around.

"Hey," Danny says, giving Steve's arm a squeeze. "How about we get me out of this thing and save it for its intended purpose?"

"You mean this wasn't its intended purpose?" Steve says, and Danny can feel his smile, along with the words, against Danny's neck.

"It was clearly your intended purpose," Danny says with a laugh. "But you remember that chafing I was talking about?"

Steve rolls away from him with a sigh. "Fine," he says, voice laced with mock sadness. "If you insist."

He moves Danny onto his back and gently takes the holster off, leaning over to put it carefully on the floor. He also disposes of the condom before rolling back over and gathering Danny into his arms.

They should eat. And maybe shower. Or something, Danny thinks, as he feels Steve's limbs get heavier and listens to his breath even out, slow and steady, against Danny's skin.

Or they could just stay like this. 

\---  
END

**Author's Note:**

> Want to learn more about me and my writing? Visit my page at <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com/>


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